sure

in the information about geography of translations

only the strong survive
hidden in their little hills
and they become their destinations

in mean or mens rea:

there is an order
learning about friction
that has been rubbed away

in the lets go and delight depths strains of thought

there’s a way through
feelings’ connotations
stupidly known and larger wrought

the save little and to all strains of being

the doors, the speaking possibly,
assigned too much with things
as dawn to ground seeing

thunder all, of save not to

thought of
a thought
the subsidiary clue

all note understandings to the rule at the depth of feeling stones

at the task of being marched
forward roll over all
past bones

the nature of the very bottom of earth

the rotted fish
that smell
on surf

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